


Ribbon Surprise

by CherryBlossomDreams



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: A Merry Walking Dead Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dom/sub Play, Dominant Rick Grimes, Light BDSM, M/M, Paddling, Spanking, Submissive Daryl Dixon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2833874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBlossomDreams/pseuds/CherryBlossomDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes... Surprises come in Ribbons and Crossbows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ribbon Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> A Christmas gift for all of those that adore Rickyl! I decided to write it up while in the middle of typing up the other fanfiction, because, well why not? Tis’ the season! So enjoy, and if you want, kudos and comments are appreciated. (っ◕‿◕)っ♥

  


Rick gathered information from his protected group that the one he had trusted with his life with had gone and disappeared from all the group. The nitwit even failed to show up for dinner, which was highly unusual as he always wanted claim to what he tracked down and killed. Daryl was an overall aggressive, yet loyal hunter - and he was missing. Rick wanted damned sure he came back no matter what, and that reason alone placed him outside; away from the warmer and guarded prison. He stalked around the outer perimeter, ignored the few clawing stragglers on the fence, and peered at the wooded area to check if any of the shadows he eyed were of the younger man.

’ _...Nada._ ’

The deputy became more nervous than he anticipated by the evidence scarcity of Daryl’s presence. He raised his fist and combed his fingers through his long stubble that had grown in since the Greene’s farm. The facial hair had certainly turned a baby-smooth appearance into an distinguished, distinct, and rugged character out of the man. And it was all thanks to personal comments made from the only important person in Rick’s current life. He decided, after those remarks, to never pick up a razor and shave it all. Rick shook his thinker when he realized there was still a need to focus on the whereabouts of Daryl and less on those particular conversations. His puffed lower lip blushed from scrapping by imperfect teeth that bit down as Rick, in a hurried motion, strode over to the front gate.

He had tilted his head up to view the threatening clouds that were abundant, deep gray, and screamed high probability of a winter snow storm. And bitter, chilly spikes from the wind were also a sign that those little white flurries were ready once the sun went down. To be honest, he welcomed the thought of his part of Georgia snowing, especially down in the south where it hardly ever would.

Plus Beth had mentioned to him earlier that morning it would be Christmas Day tomorrow. She, that beautiful soul, managed to plan an entire Christmas party for the adults and a secret visit from Mister Santa Hershel for the children, all which included presents. So even if it only dusted a little that would be enough to make not only the kids happy, but make the whole nightmarish world a little easier on Rick himself. He cracked a grin when he remembered it would be Judith’s first real Christmas, too.

And with that thought, the middle aged man really needed to bustle before Daryl became a frozen human Popsicle from the below-freezing temperatures.

He gripped the rope to go ahead and open one of the weighted, light-shaded copper gates. He stretched entire upper body muscles as the entrance began to slowly move and he barred down on his jaw. He spotted a lone walker dragging its way toward the noise and motion the door had made, Rick held onto the rope and positioned his lower body apart, and dug his feet into the dirt, readying himself to run. That was until someone yelled his name in such a manner that he lost complete hold of the twine and it jolted skyward. He yelped and glanced at his burned, red palms in total awe while he attempted to oppress cursed words. The plan blundered when a few spewed out from his thick, graveled voice while Rick tried to pinch back a rising temper.

Crystal blues glared and scowled down the intruder. He knew in the back of his mind that if he failed to reach Daryl in time before nightfall, there would be no safe way to find him at all. Prepared to bite a sharp bark at the figure, his eyes softened when he recognized the person; Carol. The only other soul close to the absent man. Her hair had grown some since their first encounter, but she stayed the same petite, troubled shrunken shape. She had her boutique black coat on, all thanks to that hunter. One day he motorcycled, along with two other scavengers, for supplies and arrived back two hours later with a trunk load full of clothes for every resident.

”I think...” She caught her breath after she jogged down to meet up with Rick. He surveyed her stature when her arms folded on instinct. She huffed out of the rest,”I think I might’a know where Daryl is...”

He kept his attention fixated on her hopeful expression,”Where?”

”Apparently, he told Maggie he was makin’ a present for someone in his cell, an’ days earlier he went out on a run by himself to get supplies... But nothin’ made it back to the table.”

She paused and corrected herself,”For the group, I mean.”

”And?”

”Well, I went on to check on him a while ago, and... He wasn’t there, **_but_** I did see some ribbons and somethin’ wrapped up.” She made sure to mention how she did not touch a single thing in the cell, in case the hunter resurfaced. The deputy wondered whether if that was out of fear, respect, or a mixture of both. Rick, in a hesitant motion, patted Carol’s slender shoulder.

”Thank you, Carol.”

The older female nodded, and without question, trailed behind the leader as they both scurried away from the scolding cold and opened the entrance door. Before she followed him back to cell block C, he white-knuckled the door and craned his neck. He met eyes with her own. Without warning, Rick gave her an unexpected instruction,”Look, I’ll check and see if he’s there now. You need to go back to your cell.”

He acknowledged his tone was on the harsh side, and in some way, his choice of words made Carol sound untrustworthy. He quickened an ensued response once he observed her facial features and how scrunched up in confusion it had become.

”I... Again, thank you. But I need to talk to him alone.”

”Well, if ya ever need me... I’ll be in my _cell_. I guess.” He was right behind her after she decided to shouldered passed him, knocked on one of the bars to be let in by someone. He observed as she walked upstairs to her own hole in the wall. He would have to make a proper apology after he dealt with Daryl. Rick was in luck because the person that had let them in happened to be Maggie and she was all ready to speak as she was in his line of direction when she whispered.

“’ey... Awkward, huh?”

Rick sighed. The use of an index finger and thumb to pressure the root part of his nose as he tried to level frustration that even he could not comprehend. Where in the _**Hell**_ was Daryl?

”She doesn’t know... But he should be in his cell. Good luck.” She hooked her fingers onto the leader’s biceps, directed him to the way where the faithful companion stayed, and shoved him forward. All in one fluid motion. He caught sight of her bright, confident smile and he eased back into normalcy, but thoughts wandered.

There were many things Carol had no clue and would never know about. One being his true connection with the young man. There was an obvious born relationship between the two men; more than any brotherly love would produce. And the romance was a safe, hidden secret from public knowledge and it made every interaction with that woman so difficult as he felt absolutely protective, even possessive, over the blissful happiness he had found. If the world today they all lived in made a lick of sense; she would be the love affair in the sheets with Daryl - not him.

And with that, he minded those were the breaks and he waltzed over to the room at the far end of the cell block. Daryl had better be in there, because right then, Rick needed a release.

In the pitch dark, he witnessed rustling around on the bunk bed. He tried to keep calm when he reached out to pull out the bars and pry them to his left side, opening up the eerily quiet atmosphere. One foot in the small spaced area, he noticed a flashlight on a desk. A couple of shakes from the flashlight for good measure, Rick flicked it on and shined down on the constant moving figure. A darkened haired man flurried his head upward and steel blue eyes squinted shut. The older man suddenly noted the man had his mouth covered in candy-cane decorated ribbon while the same material bound his wrists together on the metal bar of his bedstead.

”Godshdanet! Tern tha’t theng off!”

Rick fumbled with the flashlight, and in haste, he turned off the intrusive light off. He stumbled over himself to find the small bathroom candle on the desk and the mossy oak plastic lighter Daryl always kept by or near him at all times. He searched the surface before he managed to find both and a soft, illumination tepid around him. He turned around to see what laid before him and gawked at the tanned pectorals with milky whipped-chocolate nips that were budded due to the chilled air. For a second, the chest hitched before it heaved in an unsteady rhythm. Rick’s vision automatically pulled above to watch flushed cheeks become more hued under his intense gaze.

”...Baby?” The weight of the older man created crackled creaks as he leaned down to touch the soft skin of his partner’s forehead, brushed away the partial strands of hair from his features. Fingers skated across the cheek bone before cuffing the silky surface. The index and middle gently petted delicate sideburns. Eyelashes fluttered when Daryl blinked a couple of times and he buried what he could into a left, broad shoulder.

Rick smirked at the irritated eye-roll from the hunter.

”Donsch cull meh tha’t.”

”Okay...” He guided the loosened ribbon downward from those luscious blushed lips and encased the bottom, sucking on it. The small tastes of pure tobacco and alcohol were overwhelming and delightful. Gasps were restrained as they soaked into his own skin. He craved more and shoved himself on top of the less dominant male before freeing the enclosed mouth and tapped his tongue inside. He kept going, lapping at the entrance, trailing across both borders. Once Rick felt a caress from that shy tongue, he backed away in a suspended moment, captured at both sides of Daryl’s face, and crushed their oral-cavities; shoving their bodies together as one.

The entanglement and roughness increased when the older lover slid his palms down the bared chest, then further down to the hip bones where he squeezed as hard as possible to hear mewling from his pet. The motioning of circling hips pressed on the hardening crotch of the hunter. A loud shuttering moan escaped from that delicious orifice, and on impulse, Rick slowly spread one thigh to gain more access and drove the lover up on the edge of the bedding in one lunge. Another gasp, Daryl pushed against him while the redneck’s hoarse, throaty voice uttered,”W-Wait...”

The deputy darted and took the chance at the space of the neck near the right ear, savoring the aftertaste of sweat. He could lick at the jugular and cuddle the rapid pulsing. His teeth nipped and helped to leave small raised blood filled spots until they grazed over the rim of a ear. He nuzzled; demanding and without obtainment.” _Hm_?”

”Open yer present.” Daryl grunted when Rick aligned their crotches, hastening his fevered onrush. He had a thumb on an areola, and in leisure, encircled it and chortled with a spark in his voice,” Oh, I will.”

”No, ya idiot. Next ta me, there’s a package.”

One would deem the scene pathetic when the older one only watched when the hunter tried to hint by shifting his head to his right and moments passed. He was about to be to be called another name, but Rick managed to avoid the embarrassment once he crossed his arm over to reach and grab at what appeared to be a white draw-string tied around a flimsy box that had newspaper as wrapping paper. He tilted the box to hear what would be inside, and heard clearly two items. He cracked another grin as he took one of the loose strings and pulled it apart. When it fell onto the bed, he tore into the newspaper to expose what appeared to be a shoe box that had the lettering number ten on the top of it. Daryl snorted at Rick’s appearance when he held up a elongated, camouflage paddle and a quite large packet of sensual lube that read at the top about how it tingled and became heated from skin contact.

”I ’new you’d be pissed at me fer disappearin’, so...”

”...You’ve _got_ to be kidding.” He arched an eyebrow and tried to hide away the uneasy awkwardness. They were at the stage where he had become comfortable with his fetishes within the ‘B.D.S.M.’ spectrum, but he only used what he was created with; no real instruments/tools to play around on his mate. The new present and ribbons would be a step-up, but that was not an excuse to allow the submissive to win.

”If yer too scared...” He could feel the smug aura that seeped through those words and he made him desire to take advantage of the lovable bastard. He settled the two gifts onto the side of the bed and positioned himself between the other man’s calves again. Daryl was readying up another remark and Rick forced the ribbon back inside; where it belonged.

”Shut up.”

First the top button popped, then slid the zipper, and in a swift second the hunter’s hand-me-down jeans were ripped from him. The leader shivered when he let the cold surround him after he upraised his beige shirt off and pulled down his own slacks to his knees. Saliva traveled lower to the navel, leaving butterfly kisses for reassurance, then further down the fluffed, imperfect happy-trail. He buried his tongue into the inner right groin, and made another bruised creation. His path ended right above the heavy musk scent of wiry hairs. The timed torture continued as he brushed facial hair an inch from the concealed bulge that strained under black boxer-briefs. He ignored the idea of pulling them away, and instead, focused on the moisten beads around the thickened mushroom head, and drew it in. The bitter-sweetness was incredible. Daryl’s sobbing and sighs increased as he jammed his hips into Rick’s mouth as it slide up and down on his covered shaft. The older one took in a breath and caressed the younger one’s rear end as he went back to his original, upward position.

”Turn around.” A winded whimper and a meekly, muffled ‘what’ behind the ribbon only made a taunting chuckle escape from Rick. He smacked then groped at Daryl’s behind, earned a hiss, then slammed his extremity again, and a cry escaped through the strip and echoed throughout the room. Daryl’s legs seemed almost jello as he rolled himself over and the cutesy fabric tensed. The deputy rocked himself into the now fanned out lover, and grabbed the lubrication packet and used his canine and the incisor to snag a decent sized rip. He left it to the side again and gripped his new toy.

”This is for runnin’ off, _sweet_ heart.”

He used the edge of the paddle to touch every curve and crevice of Daryl’s lower half and made his first mark with reverberation. Rick made sure to fully rattle the man by leaving him bare before he extend the torment. There was not a set momentum, nor strength as he thwacked at each side and below the rump, some were only pats compared to the brutal hits that left redness and a satisfactory roasted touch underneath the man’s other hand. He tried to keep his cool, but it built up to the point every choked back scream became music to Rick’s ears and he could not stop what only would be described as the most powerful instinct to bury his dick inside whatever scorching wet hole was available.

His need was side-tracked when he squirted thick liquid onto two fingers and mingled in order for the substance to work. A coated digit circled and then was inserted inside the pulsating puckered entrance. He cringed when Daryl pushed back onto the finger and groaned due to his member suffocating beneath his drawers. The muscles were ready for the second one when they were no longer clutched and instead set the invitation with tugging the intrusion inward. He parted the two in a scissoring gesture and released his throbbing appendage, and managed to squirt some of the same fluid on it before he started on himself. Rick thought it was time to bend the index and middle, and seek out the spot that brought on more wails from beyond the candy-cane embellished material.

The entire ordeal was something to be seen; a writhing redneck and a family man hard-pressed to make the final connection between them. Daryl made a noise of defeat when Rick took away the pressure and forced him to flip over onto his back. Rick found his bearings, and in hunger, drove the tip where the sun did not shine. The older man husked out a groggy gasp and inhaled deeply enough there was shakiness in his chest. He pushed in further until he was fully sheathed and the pair both had to be given a chance to relax before the pace was set; rough, but gradual. Daryl hooked his legs around the waist for encouragement, and Rick did not hesitate.

The hunter probably did not expect a tongue digging at his mouth once again, but Rick needed the contact. The ribbon was split in half and no space would be able to restrict access against the man. Moans deepened as the ramming became more hurried, but Daryl did not start border on screaming until Rick re-discovered that sweet spot. Each forced graze brought actual tears from obvious pleasure as silenced screams meddled with sincere groans. Rick sensed the tightening not only around him, but Daryl’s lower stomach seized and his legs tried to keep hold. He took the clue, hoisted up the man, and slammed as fast as possible as one would hear wet slaps from soaked skin. His actions were rewarded only a few minutes later as a stream of milky white squirted out onto their fronts, and reached as far as their chests; an amusing accomplished feat.

He never let go of his lover as he withered into everything distractedly beautiful. Vision began to blur after several rousing thrusts and white hot flashes streaked from deep inside his lower abdomen across his spine to his mind. His eyelids shut and he captivated the amazing rush, but movements became unsteady and the eventual slow-down of each pump of rushing blood made him stop and sink onto Daryl. Rick rummaged around until he found his shirt and used it as a towel to wipe away the sweat that gathered near his eyes, then removed the sticky mess Daryl had created, and wobbly untied the other ribbon to free the hunter. He rested on the man’s shoulder, and did not flinch from the sudden grip on his matted dark chestnut hair; each finger-tip petting at strands that fell into his face.

It seemed like a half-hour had passed by when Daryl murmured,”Merry Christmas.”

”Y-You too...” The deputy threw the packet and paddle in a corner of the floor and stayed on his side as he scooted close to the wall. He outreached his forearm, and Daryl did not waver and cuddled into him, his head right below Rick’s chin.

”I... I think I’ll stay here tonight.” A weak nod replied, but that was fine for the family man because he had the most important person safe in his hold. They both drifted into a peaceful sleep. Daryl Dixon was in the protective, loving arms of Rick Grimes that night, and nothing else mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> _Sweet dreams, boys~_
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas, plus a Happy New Year! ♥
> 
> Yours truly,  
> ✿CherryBlossomDreams✿


End file.
